Survive
by amycakes
Summary: Making it home from the 74th annual Hunger Games was never going to be easy, but Stefan's unfortunate fascination with the dangerous career from District 2 definitely doesn't make it any easier. Klefan. TVD/THG fusion.
1. Chapter 1

So a million gifs of klefan in the woods from 3x02 prompted my brain to imagine a Vampire Diares/Hunger Games fusion and this is how it's turned out so far.

**Warning:** AU, so maybe everything will be a little off. Klefan, that means slash.

**Disclaimer:** I'm too poor to buy the CW and I think trying to buy Suzanne Collins would be considered illegal.

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_**Survive**_

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_"In the ruins of a place once known as North America lies the nation of Panem, a shining Capitol surrounded by twelve outlying districts. The Capitol is harsh and cruel and keeps the districts in line by forcing them all to send one boy and one girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen to participate in the annual Hunger Games, a fight to the death on live television." - The Hunger Games_

* * *

"C'mon Stefan, it won't be us."

Stefan sighed, sending his older brother a tiny glare. "You don't know that Damon. What if it is?"

"It won't be." Damon intoned forcefully, throwing an arm over his shoulder and pulling him close. "You only have two years left and this is my last year. Our names aren't in there enough – we've never used tesserae."

Stefan let out a small smile then, "the odds are ever in our favour!" He joked, before becoming serious once more, staring out into the trees. "I can't lose you Damon," he bit his lip. "Not after mother…"

"Hey!" Damon snapped, running a hand through his hair, "what did I say? It's not going to be us Stefan…"

"Good. Because you're all I have left." He stood up at that, ignoring Damon's irritation with his negative attitude and hauled the doe he'd shot over his shoulder. He usually preferred his knives but they tended to make more of a mess than necessary so he'd been using his bow lately.

The peacekeepers at the hob used to turn a blind eye to their hunting, one of them even bought their game – even if they were peacekeepers, they still had to eat the food of the district and District 12's food…let's just say it wasn't plentiful and fit for a king in any case.

Recently however their resident peacekeepers had been pulled out on rotation and the Salvatore brothers weren't yet ready to run into the new ones and discern their lawfulness. The punishment for hunting illegally was a severe whipping and those who had been caught often died from infection to their lashes.

The point was, walking through the district with blood all over his clothes wasn't the best option. The doe was small enough that he could lift it with some difficulty, though they'd wait until night to smuggle it off to someone in the hob. Damon was carrying a whole punnet of strawberries and Stefan knew exactly who they were for.

"You're still chasing after her, huh?" he shook his head humorously. Strawberries were rare in District 12, or anywhere outside of the capitol and District 11 he would think and Damon had somehow gotten a strawberry patch growing in their favourite spot, far from the borders of their home. Stefan also happened to know for a fact that strawberries were the favourite food of the Mayor's daughter, Elena Gilbert.

Elena was beautiful – long brunette hair, brown eyes that sparkled – any man would be lucky to have her but for some reason she took no interest in any of the boys, _or men, _who approached her. She was Stefan's age, only seventeen, and they had gone through school together for a little while.

He had always assumed that she was too…stuck up for any of the local boys, however when Damon began to bring her gifts from the outside, she had quickly shown interest. Stefan wasn't completely sold that she wasn't just another materialistic capitol-fuelled robot, but Damon was fond of her, so he refrained from commenting.

If Damon found happiness in this place then who was he to take that away?

"She still refuses to let me see her in public," he grumbled quietly, his jaw ticking in annoyance. See – egoistic much?

"Maybe you shouldn't give her a choice," Stefan suggested, raising an eyebrow.

Damon smirked, "now that wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me would it, little brother?"

Stefan snorted, "Damon Salvatore, a gentleman?" He received a shove in return and nearly toppled over, the weight of the doe on his shoulder unbalancing him. He was quick to hide the doe in the shrubbery just beyond the electric fence that enclosed the town from the forest, making sure to test if it was live before jumping back through the hole they'd cut years ago.

They hadn't seen electricity running through the fence in years but it paid to check he supposed – better safe than dead.

"I'll take these to Elena," Damon said before dropping his grin at his next words. "You go home and get cleaned up, okay?" Reaping day meant they had to dress in their best clothes and do their hair, just in case they were the lucky one that got to die; a tribute.

Stefan snorted, but followed his brother's direction anyway, assuming he wanted some time alone with the mayor's daughter. Being the daughter of an important person didn't mean she wasn't subjected to the reaping also and for all Damon's protests that it couldn't be them, he was still worried it could be _her_.

He sighed, making his way back home to wash and force his short brown hair into some realm of acceptability. Their dusty house, if one could call it that was quiet and Stefan hated it. Ever since their mother had died it had just been Damon and himself. Every moment he spent alone in this house reminded him of her, but what could he do? It wasn't as if they could just pick up and build another one.

Damon returned in no time at all, by the look on his face Stefan assumed that Elena wasn't in the best mood today either and had set off his brother as collateral. As soon as he noticed his brother observing him though, Damon put on a brave face.

His name was in there six times. Damon's seven. What were the chances they would be reaped? There were children worse off than them, younger than them that didn't have the resources they did, that couldn't hunt and therefore traded off their fate for tesserae every year.

Of course they tried to supply the people they could with the game they managed to catch, but their friends came first and not everyone in the district could be trusted with their secret. They were better off trading to the hob than helping people out individually and that was just how it was.

"C'mon," he barely noticed as Damon shot back down the stairs, clean and in his finest clothes. "Let's go, we can't be late."

He followed his brother silently out to the square where they were greeted by the usual orderly throngs that denoted reaping day. It was the one day all the children were gathered together like this and Stefan couldn't help but feel a little more relaxed as he noted the amount of them.

There were a lot of people here – a lot of names in that bowl and some of them more than their required times, he should be fine. They both should.

"Hey Stefan!"

He and Damon whipped around at the sound of a melodious voice behind them.

"Lexi!" He grinned as he caught her, seeing his best friend could cheer him up any time – even reaping day.

"You have your broody face on," she noted, frowning and he sighed, rolling his eyes. She was in a jovial mood even on a day like today, her blonde hair glinting in the sunlight.

"I can never get a break between the pair of you," he gibed, pulling her along with them to the registration. They had to be separated when their blood was taken, Stefan going to the left and Lexi to the right, his brother going in another direction completely.

Separated by age, Stefan didn't really have anyone to draw comfort from in the reaping, but that was okay. It was quick at least, only the build-up was painful – the suspenseful waiting to find out whether it was you or someone you loved being sent to their death this year.

There was a stage set up out the front, a microphone in the middle and the two glass bowls that would decide their fate – filled to the brim with names. Peacekeepers lined either side of the stage and in the centre were chairs set out for the Mayor and his family, the beautiful Elena Gilbert, front and centre in her best dress.

The crowd quieted as a small lady dressed in a bright pink dress took the stage, her tone much more upbeat than necessary for such an occasion. She happily greeted the crowd and generally tried to make them feel it was an _honour_ to offer up their citizens to die every year before turning on a video they were forced to watch every year.

Their nation's history, the dark days and the repercussions of the uprising they now had to endure for as long as the Capitol saw fit, which Stefan assumed would probably be forever, or at least until someone had enough power to overthrow them. He didn't expect to see it in his lifetime anyway.

"Now, now!" She called out happily, "as always, let's do the ladies first, shall we?" She swirled her hand around in the glass ball dramatically and all the girls tensed, each one fearing her next words would be their name. "And may the odds be ever in your favour!" It was added on to the end almost like a sinister parting blow and he couldn't help but wince.

"Caroline Forbes!" There was silence.

Caroline…poor Caroline. She was Stefan's age – they were fairly good friends in fact. He watched as the beautiful young girl was pushed forward by her peers, most of them just glad it wasn't their name drawn out. She ascended the stairs on shaky legs and he could see as she turned on the stage her eyes were filled with tears.

She wouldn't last five minutes in the games.

Caroline was a lover, not a fighter. She could sew, she could cook, but she couldn't fight – she didn't stand a chance. Stefan missed whatever words she managed to utter into the microphone, his mind spinning, unable to comprehend that poor, lovely Caroline was being sent to the death.

He had no choice but to pay attention though when their district's escort called out, "and now the boys!" As reassured as he had been that his name wasn't in the bowl anywhere near the amount of times as some of the others in the district, Caroline's reaping had shaken him and made everything all the more real.

He tensed as her hand swirled around and around, making it out to be something suspenseful, like a game. She grasped a small slip of paper and pulled it out, struggling against the seal with her over-sized pink fingernails.

"Here we go…" She called out, finally unfolding the slip and smiling like she was announcing the winner of some sort of lottery.

"Damon Salvatore!"

"NO!"

Stefan's jaw was hanging open, but it wasn't him who screamed. Elena had stood from her place on the stage, the yell having ripped from her throat as she stared in horror down at his older brother. Stefan couldn't move. It was as if it was all just a bad dream, after all, hadn't Damon said this morning they would be just fine?

Hadn't he said that the odds were in their favour? The odds _were_ in their favour! How could this happen? He turned frantically to try and find his brother in the crowd behind him, Damon was being ushered out into the walkway that would take him to the stage, take him to his death.

Elena was sobbing in range of the microphone and finally his eyes found shocked icy blue. Stefan's legs suddenly moved of their own accord.

"I VOLUNTEER!"

Everyone went silent as if they'd misheard.

"I volunteer." He repeated, pushing his peers out of the way to get to the stage.

"Stefan! No!" Damon yelled out from behind him angrily but he paid his brother no mind, continuing the rest of his sprint to the front of the square where the peacekeepers took his arms.

"My, my," their escort called, holding out a hand for him to take. "I do believe this is the first time anyone has volunteered from District 12."

He didn't even know what he was doing to be honest, still moving around in that dream-like state, but what he did know was that he didn't have it in him to sit at home and watch his brother die, hunted like an animal on some TV. He couldn't do it – he was weak and selfish.

"What's your name dear?" He was asked and he found his mouth went dry. He stared down into the crowd to meet Damon's terrified eyes, his arm pulled into Lexi's grasp where she had run out to meet him.

"Stefan." He answered quietly, his gaze never wavering. "Stefan Salvatore."

"Oh!" She said quietly, laughing as if it were the punch-line of some amazing joke – his life was the joke. "And I bet that Damon down there is your brother, is that right?"

"Yes." He said resolutely, holding his chin up.

"Well then-"

"I volunteer!" Damon had yelled from the crowd, pulling out of Lexi's grip to run forward. "You can't take him! I _want_ to go."

The escort looked down in surprise glancing at Stefan and then down at Damon again who were glaring at each other furiously.

"Well…this is most unexpected…" She trailed off. "But he volunteered first so…"

Damon's face was full of anger and he turned it from Stefan, across to her. "But _I_ was drawn out first!" He banged his fist on the stage. "_I'm_ going." He said the last part to Stefan, glaring at him resolutely and not for the first time the youngest Salvatore wished his brother wasn't so stubborn.

"Damon!" He glared fiercely. This was not happening. He was not going to let his brother do this. He couldn't.

"Well...a little sibling rivalry is always a good thing!" She managed to pick up her happy tone again as the peacekeepers came forward to drag Damon back. "But rules are rules!" And with that she took his arm and Caroline's holding them up for the crowd.

"I give you your District 12 tributes for the 74th Hunger Games!" When no applause was forthcoming, she quickly pulled them both by the arms into off the stage and into the building, putting them in separate rooms where they would wait to see their families one last time before departing for the Capitol.

Stefan paced backwards and forwards in the small room he was placed in, unable to forget his brother's reaction but unable to regret his own. He wouldn't change his decision even if he could. Damon could move on without him…Stefan didn't think he was strong enough to do that, to be that person.

"Stefan!" The door was thrown open and Damon was suddenly there, hands gripping his shoulders tightly, shaking him. "What were you thinking?" It was alarming to see his brother so clearly distressed but if this was the last time he would see him, he owed him the truth at least.

"I can't live without you. I can't lose you Damon." He repeated his earlier words from their hunting trip.

"And you think I can live without you?" Damon asked brokenly and Stefan dropped his head.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I was being selfish…"

"God Stefan," Damon hissed, pulling him close. "You…you can do this." He said adamantly and it wasn't quite clear whether he was trying to reassure Stefan or himself. "You're good with a bow and you're good with knives...you're strong too from all the game we carry back." Damon nodded to himself. "You'll be fine. You can win this."

Stefan decided not to mention that to win he would have to kill Caroline and he wasn't sure if that was something he could do. He would kill others for survival – of that he had no qualms, but a friend? That wasn't something he thought he could do.

Plus, the careers – the tributes from districts 1, 2 and usually 4 – trained for this their entire lives. They were born killers and Stefan's hunting skills couldn't hold a candle to their weapons expertise.

"You can survive in the woods," Damon went on, "survival is your strong suit." He was trying to cram everything into the few minutes they were offered and even though Stefan's mind immediately rebutted that all the arenas were different and he'd have to be really lucky to get a forest terrain, he remained quiet, nodding at everything his brother said.

The peacekeeper's suddenly opened the door, taking Damon by the arm and dragging him back out of the room, struggling the entire time. "Stefan!" He called back and managed enough force to stop the peacekeepers in their tracks for a moment. "I love you baby bro." And with that, he was gone.

Stefan collapsed against the wall behind him, sliding down to the floor. He closed his eyes and tried to hold back tears, lower lip shaking. He wasn't expecting any more visitors, after all, he had no more family and the peacekeepers certainly wouldn't let Lexi in, so he was startled when the door suddenly opened once more and Elena slipped in quietly.

"You shouldn't be here." He murmured, looking up at her softly.

"I know," her cheeks were tearstained. "But I just had to see you."

He sighed, pulling himself up to draw her into his arms. "Stefan," she murmured against his shoulder hesitantly. "…thank you." She didn't elaborate and she didn't need to. She was thanking him for taking the place of his brother, for keeping Damon safe, for making sure he would stay here – for her.

He was suddenly angry, angry that this had happened to him, to Damon, to everyone. Angry that the Capitol had the gall to do this to them, year after year, angry that he was going to die and most of all – angry that Elena was thanking him for going to his death, as if he were doing it for her.

"I didn't do it for you!" He hissed, slamming his fist into the wall.

"I…I know!" Her eyes widened and filled with tears once more. "But-"

"Just go!" He fumed, sending her a dark glare and watching as she nodded silently before scurrying out the door again. Most likely the only reason she even got in to see him was because she was the mayor's daughter.

It was a little upsetting that there were other people he wouldn't get to say goodbye to, especially Lexi who had been his best friend since they were kids. He would probably never see them again. That's not to say he wasn't going to try because he would fight, he would fight fiercely and no one could expect anything less…but the others would be better trained, more skilled than he was…and he really didn't stand a fighting chance.

* * *

They were ushered quickly from their separate rooms and onto the 'Tribute Train', not given any time for one last look at their district or anyone from it. The train's carriages were extravagant, tables bearing lavish food spread out across one wall and large plush chairs in the centre of the room.

It was the first time he and Caroline really had a second to stop and breathe, or to even notice the other and realise they were both in this thing together. Caroline burst into tears the minute the doors slid closed and Stefan pulled her into his arms immediately.

"I'm so sorry, Caroline."

She sobbed quietly. "It's not your fault Stefan," she whimpers, burying her head in his chest as he strokes her hair.

Sighing he pulled her back and guided them to the dining table at the other end of the carriage where their escort (whose name he still hadn't bothered to learn) waited with a middle aged man who Stefan could put a name to immediately – Alaric Saltzman. Alaric was District 12's only previous winner and it was no small feat considering the games he had won was the 2nd Quarter Quell, where 48 tributes were entered instead of the usual 24.

He was a skilled fighter, a skilled _hunter_ and hopefully they would learn something from him. Stefan was so far unimpressed however by the bland stare the blonde man was setting on them.

"So you're the new tributes." Stefan noticed a flicker of sadness in his eyes as he looked to Caroline but it was gone in seconds.

"Yeah. Yeah, we are." He responded, taking Caroline's hand in his as she was clearly still distressed. He wasn't sure if he would have preferred to go in with a complete stranger really, that was he wouldn't have to worry about killing a friend, just another nameless face that was his ticket home.

"You're going to help us right?" Caroline asked quietly and looked up at Alaric with the glimmer of tears in her eyes. The older man closed his, resting his head in his hands and taking a deep breath before looking back up again.

"Yeah…yeah I am." There was a certain look in his eyes that made Stefan wonder what was different. Something told him he didn't look at every set of tributes that came his way, the same as he'd just looked at them – and wasn't that a sad story in itself? Being the only previous victor of the games from District 12, Alaric Saltzman had to mentor every pair of kids for the past 23 years…and watch them all die – all 46 of them.

"You each have your own rooms on the train." He sighed. "We'll be arriving at the Capitol tomorrow, I suggest you use this time to go over the other reapings for this year and the past games." He stood up from the table, gesturing for them to follow as he lead them to their quarters. "The recordings are in your rooms. We'll talk strategies once we reach the Capitol."

Even as Alaric retreated and Stefan stepped towards his own quarters, he couldn't help but meet Caroline's pleading eyes and cave, motioning for her to come with him and they settled down to view the other district's reapings together.

In the agricultural district, District 11, a girl named Bonnie who looked about their age and a boy named Luca were drawn from the glass bowls. The girl was stone-faced, refusing to shed a tear and the boy looked worried. Stefan wondered if they had any skills that would help them in the games at all.

From District 8 a shocked looking boy named Matt was drawn and a brunette girl Anna. Anna seemed to be the youngest drawn so far, looking around 15 years old. Stefan was glad for that because as much as he wanted – _needed_ – to come home to his brother, he wasn't so sure he could kill children. If there were any 12 year olds reaped, he was sure he wouldn't have been able to kill them in cold blood. It made it slightly easier to think about when they were closer to his age.

District 4 came with a volunteer, Tyler, who was clearly a career. You could tell just by looking at him that the games hyped him up, that he was _excited_ by the prospect of going into the arena. There wasn't a female volunteer for District 4 as there usually was and a girl named Amber was pulled from the stack of papers, gasping out heart wrenching sobs, the peacekeepers had to physically drag her to the podium.

Caroline shuffled closer to him and he paused the playback for a moment, putting his arm around her shoulders. "We don't have to watch this if you don't want to." She only shook her head silently, taking the remote from him and pressing the play button again.

District 3 reaped a boy named Finn who looked too old to be in the draw, though Stefan supposed he must be 18 years old. He didn't look thrilled (not that anyone would) and it seemed that, by some bizarre twist of fate, his girlfriend, Sage, was also reaped. He watched as they stared at each other in horror, explaining as they were prompted their relationship with each other. What a nightmare.

The reaping in District 2 interested Stefan the most out of all of them. The escort took the stage and without even making one move towards the glass bowls, she announced, "we already have our volunteer tributes for this year's annual Hunger Games." That wasn't so surprising in itself, 2 was a careers district after all, but usually they would go on as usual and the tributes would have to volunteer from the crowd. It seems that was not the case here.

"For the boys, Niklaus Mikaelson and for the girls…Rebekah Mikaelson." Caroline gasped and Stefan stared open mouthed as the escort gestured behind her where two figures stood up from chairs they had been presented in. They were both stunning to look at and Stefan found his eyes drawn to stare intensely at the blonde boy before him. He looked around 18 years old, toned as any career, with blonde hair and bright azure eyes, full pink lips drawn into a tight unimpressed line.

A quick glance at his sister confirmed they had the same blonde hair, the same features and her face, her face held a devastated look. There had to be something more to this. He didn't have to worry about pausing the recording because Caroline had done it for him, the two of them staring at the screen, entranced.

"Why would they volunteer? Knowing they have to kill each other?" Caroline whispered and Stefan couldn't help but frown, studying the look on the blonde boy's face.

"I don't think they did…" He muttered quietly, the wheels in his head spinning. Neither of them looked ecstatic to be there as careers usually did, the girl, Rebekah seemed outright distraught and there was no doubt in Stefan's mind that they didn't volunteer themselves. Not of their own free will anyway.

They un-paused the screen watching as Niklaus turned to give a man behind him a dark glare, before responding to the escort's questions. Unlike the previous districts, Stefan was rapt with attention, hanging on every word the blonde said.

"My name is Klaus, this is my sister Bekah." And when asked about their game strategy, the escort clearly ignoring the fact that to win, either of them would have to kill each other, he answered, "we will kill anyone that gets in our way."

A shiver raced down Stefan's spine. Something about the man captivated him. He couldn't put his finger on it but he knew if – _when _ – he was put in a room with Niklaus in it, his eyes would follow the man every second. He was a predator, all sharp lines and Stefan couldn't help but be interested. He hoped this wasn't going to get him killed.

They watched silently once more as District 1 had two volunteers in the normal fashion. A boy named Kol and a girl named Katerina who bore a striking resemblance to their very own mayor's daughter, Elena, which had Caroline gasping out loud. They both smirked at the other when they were taken onto the stage and he had no doubt that the look in their eyes was sinister. He wasn't drawn to either of them at all – every fibre of his body screamed to stay the hell away from those two.

"Jesus…" Caroline muttered and Stefan couldn't help but agree as the recording went blank. He was glad there weren't any small children reaped this year, but there were certainly some skilled careers and a lot of people they'd have to watch out for – if he thought his chances were bad before, his opinion definitely hadn't improved any.

"Alright." He huffed, flicking through the recordings with the remote Alaric had shown them. "Let's watch Saltzman's games." He said definitively to the blonde girl at his side, pushing the buttons to get the right year for the 2nd Quarter Quell. It would be good for them to see Alaric's skills, to see what he could teach them and how he could hone their own.

Being that it was the year the games had 48 tributes as well, it would definitely be an educational one to watch on what _not_ to do. It would be like an encyclopaedia of how to kill people…and how to get killed for that matter.

As he settled in however to watch the largest Hunger Games to date, he couldn't help but let his mind drift back to the tribute from District 2, _Klaus_.

One image on a screen and Stefan was like a moth to a flame. God help him when they reached the Capitol.

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**A/N:** So, what does everyone think? Worth continuing? This wasn't the AU I originally had planned but it pounced on me and just wouldn't let me go. *Sigh

My usual crew of readers (who I know I'll be hearing from anyway) know I don't normally beg for reviews...too much ;) But I really need to know if anyone's going to enjoy this before I spend more time on it, so thoughts? Please? (:


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Um, put down the pitchforks, ok? HERE! *Shoves Klefan at you*

**Disclaimer:** I'm too poor to buy the CW and I think trying to buy Suzanne Collins would be considered illegal.

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_**Survive  
**_

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_"I want to do something, right here, right now, to shame them, to make them accountable, to show the Capitol that whatever they do or force us to do that there is a part of every tribute they can't own." - The Hunger Games_

* * *

"You were only sixteen when you won right?" He questioned Alaric across the breakfast table, sending his now customary quick glance at Caroline to make sure she wasn't going to break into a million pieces any time soon.

"Yeah," Alaric sighed heavily, taking a swig of his scotch which caused Stefan to wince. This early in the morning? Really? "You didn't watch my games last night with the rest?"

Stefan shrugged, "well yeah but…" He trailed off at Alaric's raised eyebrow. "I guess we're just looking for some pointers."

"Here's a tip," The blonde victor threw out sarcastically, "stay alive!" He frowned immediately as if realising he'd been too harsh and ran his hands over his face. "Look, I'm sorry you got me, ok? I'm sorry you have no one else to choose from."

Stefan gaped. "You _won_ the second quarter quell when you were _sixteen_. There were _forty-eight_ victors that year instead of the usual twenty-four! Aren't you the most qualified?" He was inches away from pulling his hair out. Stefan was normally a serene personality. Damon was the hothead and Stefan remained calm, no matter what the situation…now though, he was nearing his wit's end.

"The most qualified?" Saltzman snarled. "I thought you said you watched my games!" He yelled across the table. "If you had, you'd know I won by luck! Sheer dumb luck!"

Stefan slammed his hands on the table as he stood, glaring across at their mentor. "It might have been luck that killed the last tribute, yeah! It might have been luck that Isobel saved you once," He knew he was on thin ice mentioning the fellow District 12 tribute but was unable to stop himself. "But there were _forty-eight_ tributes in that arena and _you_ made it out! You! It doesn't matter if there were one or two lucky instances, of course there were! But _you_ managed to survive, now fucking teach us how!"

His chest was heaving with exertion as he stared down the forty year old in front of him, refusing to budge. "I am not asking you, to teach me how to kill," He enunciated, "I am not asking you to share the gory details of your games, I am _asking you_ how to _survive_."

He didn't even know the butter knife was in his hand until he'd slammed it down into the wood of the table in front of him and Caroline's hand was on his bicep, for once, the blonde girl was trying to calm him down and not the other way around.

"Well aren't you a little ripper?" Saltzman sneered before getting up from his chair and stalking from the room.

"Stefan…" Caroline whined and he knew she had every right to. He'd probably just blown what little help they could have gotten from their 'esteemed mentor' because he couldn't reign in his temper. Not that he thought Alaric Saltzman would be particularly useful anyway but he hadn't just sunk the ship – he'd driven it up onto the rocks.

"Sorry Care," he sighed, shaking his head. "That was my fault."

"It's ok, Stefan." She said softly, "he's a dick anyway." Stefan choked on a laugh at that.

"That much is true." He sighed again, making his way over to the window to watch as the scenery passed by. At least if he was going to die he was seeing something outside of District 12 first. There were so many different landscapes he could barely imagine that they'd glimpsed on their way to the Capitol.

"Do you think we stand a chance at all?" Caroline crossed her arms over her chest protectively, joining him at the window. "And don't lie to me Stefan, don't just tell me what you think I need to hear."

Something in his heart broke a little at that. It wasn't as if she were a little girl but she wasn't like him either. Caroline had her mother, unlike Stefan and they did well for themselves, the two of them never went hungry at least. She had lived a pretty wholesome and sheltered life until now. The girl had no idea how to hunt…how to survive and that made her just as vulnerable as a child.

He felt the burning urge to protect her from everything the Capitol was throwing at them, even if she didn't want him to. "We have a decent chance Care." He leant his forehead against the cool glass.

"I don't know how to survive Stefan…and these people are trained killers." She bit her bottom lip in worry and he turned to place his hands on her cheeks.

"I know how to survive Caroline, I know how to hunt. Hunting people can't be that much different. I'll protect you." He drew her into a hug. "We'll avoid them, all of them for as long as possible and then when it comes down to it, we don't go down without a fight." Although he tried not to let on, he didn't feel as solid about his plan as he portrayed. The only way one could avoid the bloodbaths in the arena was if the gamemakers let them.

He'd seen games where tributes had been almost to the edge of the arena but been turned back by mutts or trackerjackers, once even a tidal wave. The only reason Saltzman had been able to avoid detection for most of his games when he reached the edge of the arena with Isobel was because there were double the amount of tributes that time and there was much more going on to entertain the Capitol citizens elsewhere.

"We'll have time in the training week to teach you a few things." He said calmly, reassuring her. I'm good with a bow and arrow and exceptional with knives. I can teach you too."

She laughed wryly, seeing though his air of confidence. "I know you'll try Stefan, but you've been hunting your entire life…I have a week."

He only smiled, refusing to let her weakness bring a dark cloud upon them. "It's a good thing you have a brilliant teacher then, isn't it?" He grinned, dragging her back to the breakfast table. "C'mon, let's not let this food go to waste." Because as much as it horrified him, the spread before him that a District 12 citizen could only imagine, this could very well be 'the last supper' so to speak for them. They should enjoy it regardless of the circumstance.

"Ok, so, strategy wise," Caroline started, half a mouth of bread impeding her speech, "do we head to the cornucopia?"

Stefan bit his lip. "It depends if the supplies are spread out, or all kept in the one place." One year all the supplies could be a giant pile at the cornucopia and the next they could be spread out for metres around it, they wouldn't know until they were on their launch discs.

"We need weapons though," He sighed. "I'm not good enough to make a bow…Damon probably could," He grunted, "but I was never good at making things, only killing them."

"Well that's still good right?" Caroline brightened up and he couldn't help but snort at the grin she gave him.

"Yeah, but it means we need some supplies. A knife at least and that's something you can't make." He paused thoughtfully. "If they're not spread out around the cornucopia we might be better off running from the bloodbath and then coming back to steal a weapon later."

He had to ponder then who the careers alliance would be. The blonde siblings from District 2 obviously, Stefan couldn't help bite his lip, wondering what they were like. They puzzled him from the footage of their reaping. They were sent as volunteers but quite clearly weren't happy about it – it made him wonder what was going on there.

"What are you thinking about?" Caroline asked suddenly, seeing the pensive look upon his face.

"The careers…" He murmured, tapping a finger against his chin.

"Ah, the blonde one?" She smirked at him, thumping him in the arm.

"What?" He gaped, "no!"

She clearly didn't believe him but he let it slide considering it had put a smile on her face and she clearly needed that.

"Sure. He _is_ cute."

"That's for sure," Stefan mumbled under his breath before raising his voice. "He's a career, even if there was something weird about their reaping."

Caroline nodded at that. "You know what else was weird?" She turned to him suddenly, "their names."

Stefan raised an eyebrow, "They're not that different?" He half-stated, half-asked, thinking back on their reaping. Niklaus and Rebekah – not common but not exactly something to be shocked at.

"Not their first names, you idiot!" Caroline rolled her eyes. "Their surname. It was Mikaelson."

Stefan hummed, seeing what she was getting at, "like President Mikaelson?"

Caroline nodded, "yeah, exactly. It's not that common either is it?"

Stefan shrugged, "don't you think we'd know if they were related to him? And besides, they're from Two, not One…" He trailed off, not feeling it necessary to add that if they were related to the current president of Panem then their names probably wouldn't even make it to the reaping bowl.

"I see your point." Caroline admitted. "I just thought it was a strange coincidence that's all."

Stefan filed away her thoughts anyway because despite all the reasons he gave, he was still unable to shake the feeling that something was off with that particular pair of siblings.

"Ok," Caroline began. "So we have them and then Katerina and Kol, the tributes from One." She listed them off on her fingers. "And the boy from four as well, the hottie." Stefan rolled his eyes as she finished, knowing already that her categorization of the tributes was based on looks.

"So at least five of them," Stefan murmured, "possibly more if they recruit allies in training." Traditionally the careers took over the cornucopia so if they didn't get supplies on the first run, that was what they were up against…without weapons.

"That isn't going to work." He sighed, pulling a hand through his short hair.

"What if…_we_ ally with them?" Caroline asked hesitantly and Stefan could answer that question immediately.

"No. No way."

"Why not?" She asked, her eyes pleading with him to at least consider it.

"Because they'll turn on you the first chance you get." It wasn't Stefan that answered and they both flipped around from the window at the same time to where their mentor had finally gotten over his earlier tizzy as Stefan was calling it.

"And there's no way you'll be able to predict when that will be," he continued as Caroline opened her mouth to object, "and since you'll have no warning, they'll have no problem tearing you to shreds."

"So what do we do then?" Caroline questioned him angrily but it was Stefan who answered.

"What _you're_ going to do is run." He sent them both a look that told them arguing with him would be futile and he wouldn't be budging from this point. "When it starts you turn on your disc and bolt in the opposite direction as fast as you can until you can find someplace to hide." He explained. "I'll get supplies (and by that, they all knew he meant weapons) and come find you."

"What if…what if someone finds me first?" She questioned quietly.

"They won't." He answered firmly. "You keep running until you find somewhere good enough to hide – don't stop until you do."

She looked over at Alaric as if he would contradict the madness coming out of Stefan's mouth but he merely remained silent, staring at Stefan in contemplation.

"It's not debatable Caroline."

And that was that, it wasn't until Alaric cornered him by himself later that he knew what that contemplative look had been for. "What exactly do you plan on doing?" He questioned and even though he went on to explain, Stefan knew immediately what he was talking about. "Protect her the entire games? She's dead weight for you."

Stefan glared at him darkly. "She's a _friend_."

"And even if you do manage to protect the damsel," Saltzman continued on seemingly obliviously, "what happens when it comes down to just the two of you?"

"I don't know." He grit out and that much was the truth. "I haven't thought that far ahead yet." Because he didn't want to. He didn't want to examine his futile future. He wasn't ready to die, he wasn't ready to leave Damon by himself, not when he had a chance to come home to him. But if that meant killing Caroline, would he do it? Could he?

He felt sickened for even thinking of it, considering such a thing felt so inherently wrong to him…but what else could he do? No. He wouldn't think about it, he would leave it up to fate and when the time came – If they both survived for that time to come – he would think of it then.

Besides history could attest that by that point in the games he probably wouldn't even be the same person anymore and isn't that a scary thought. But it's human nature – adapt to survive and when you go through something as horrible as the games, they change you – the evidence was right here in front of him.

The victor in front of him could read him like a book. "Do you really think that's wise?" He mumbled and Stefan knew he was speaking as a man who'd been in his shoes before, who'd had to think about making his own choice, but perhaps luckily depending on how you looked at it, he was robbed of that choice. Stefan might not be so lucky.

"Would you prefer if I were some kind of fool, claiming I'd die for her to live in a heartbeat?" He hissed quietly, paranoid that now he'd uttered his darkest thoughts, spoken the worst part of himself out loud Caroline would appear around a corner and crumble – and _he_ would crumble with her.

Alaric remained silent for a moment before finally answering with a hard and resounding, "no." And that was all that was said.

"Good." Stefan hissed, before turning and stalking away, trying not to let his emotions get the best of him. He hadn't even made it to the Capitol yet and that games were already changing him, but he expected it. You couldn't be a killer and a good person, life didn't work like that.

* * *

What seemed like minutes later but was actually hours they were pulling into the station at the Capitol and exiting the train. He knew he should smile, he knew he should put on some kind of lovable persona for the terrifying rainbow creatures out there that were the Capitol citizens, _the sponsors_, his brain reminded him, but he just couldn't do it. He hated them, all of them for making him do this, for putting his family through this and to be honest he wished he could kill all of _them_ instead. See how much they liked a bloodbath then.

Caroline was smiling hesitantly and waving and Stefan instantly knew they'd find her charming and beautiful and he was relieved for that, she needed all the help she could get, so sponsors should definitely be a high aim for her.

They barely saw the Capitol as they were ushered through to meet their stylists and to be honest Stefan didn't care much for his at all. The woman was thrilled with him, commenting that she barely had to do anything at all with him (he was kind of glad considering he'd heard terrible stories about eyebrows being ripped out and leg hair coming off) sending away the three assistants she had with her, feeling she wouldn't need them. She even let him bathe in peace which he supposed won her a few points.

She was pedantic about his clothes though, insisting that she would burn everything he had on later and supply him with a whole new wardrobe, which hey, did it really matter that much anyway? He wouldn't be alive long enough to worry.

He berated himself immediately for thinking that way, he had to believe he could win, or at least try to believe it – mind over matter and all. He had people to come home to, _family_ to come home to. He wasn't really listening as the stylist blabbed on and on about his costume for the parade thing they did and all about how she thought she'd really captured District 12 and blah, blah, _blah_. That was, at least, until her hand came careening forward to slap him across the face.

"I get that you don't want to be here, but at least try and be a little enthusiastic, yeah?" She shook her head, "I was told you were a little ripper, made a scene at your reaping and all, but you certainly aren't showing me much."

He shook his head at her words, frowning. "Listen, I don't-"

"No!" She cut him off, "you listen and listen well boy. I get that you don't want to be here, but if you want to make it out of these games alive, you need sponsors." She threw up her hand to halt him as he once again tried to interrupt. "And," she continued on more forcefully, "_I_ know the capitol, I _know_ how these people work and what they like – so you'd do well to listen."

He sighed, "I'm sorry alright?" Rolling his eyes, he brought up a hand to run it through his hair in unconscious frustration but found that slapped away as well.

"You never learn do you?" She shook her head. "Never mind. I suppose it looks alright messed up anyway."

He winced, folding his arms across his chest and stared at her expectantly. "So…the people of the capitol…"

"Like pretty things." She finished. "_You_ are a pretty thing. They'll like you." She moved back to push at another part of the wall behind her, opening another compartment and pulling out a black, shimmering piece of cloth.

"They will like you even more in this."

Stefan couldn't help but stare. The pants she presented him with were plain black and seemed to be not-quite leather, not-quite vinyl. They were shiny though, black and shiny and when he put them on... "These are…tight?" He would deny any accusations that his voice came out a few octaves higher than usual.

"I told you. Your looks are an asset. We're displaying your…assets."

He couldn't help but feel a little mortified. "Really? This is really necessary?"

"Honey, I guarantee you at least five sponsors from the pants alone." She raised an eyebrow before flinging another garment towards him. "And with the lack of a shirt, I guarantee you a few allies in the arena too." She winked at him.

"You have got to be kidding me," he muttered lowly, looking down at the cloth in his hands. It was a jacket made of the same material, not dissimilar to the old leather one his brother Damon wore all the time in winter back in the district. This one however was obviously shinier to match the pants and it was covered all over in what he could only describe as spikes made out of some sort of black stone. The shiny studded pieces protruded from all over the jacket, making it seem like some kind of bizarre…monster.

When he shrugged it on over his naked torso the stylist squealed with glee, clapping her hands. "This is perfect!" Stefan turned to look at himself in the floor length mirror provided, tilting his head to the side. "You get it don't you?" She asked, motioning at the jacket and continuing before he could respond. "You know, coal being a big thing in your district and all."

She was right he supposed, the stones in the jacket and the luminous shine of the entire outfit could sort of remind him of the shiny sedimentary rock before it was carved down, though he wasn't too sure about the costuming choice of, well, going as a rock. It did look good though, he could admit – even if he was uncomfortable with how tight the pants were.

"You know you can't go to the parade like that right?"

He blinked at the interruption to his thoughts, turning back to face her again. "Like what?"

"You have to _own _it." She responded. "I don't care if you're uncomfortable, you can't show it – at all. They'll eat you alive out there if you do."

He took a deep breath, managing to force out a nod. "Ok. I can do that," he said, more to himself than to her. "I can do that."

A door to the right of them opened then and Stefan turned his head to find Caroline entering the room with a strut, seeming to be completely in her element. Fear seemed to be a foreign concept to the girl when you dressed her up and did her hair.

"Stefan! Wow." She mouthed, looking him up and down. Her hair was up in a high pony and a fringe had been cut in across her forehead. Her makeup had been done dark and shadowy to match her own all-black ensemble.

She was wearing a dress made from the same material as his clothes, the bust coming up into some rather large shoulder pads, the entire top half of the outfit covered in the same stones as his jacket. She had shoes on with heels big enough that she was towering over him by just an inch and while she'd probably never worn anything like it before, she was managing well. Her own stylist had probably given her a crash course, he assumed.

He was torn upon seeing her once more – it would be so much easier for him to just distance himself now, to have minimum contact with her and just stay away. But he couldn't do that. Damon always told him he cared too much and while Stefan had denied it, he knew it was true…and now it was coming back to bite him in the ass.

"Stefan?" Caroline was staring at him expectantly now, her blonde hair swaying in its tie behind her.

He let out a breath. "You look lovely Caroline," he placed a hand on her arm reassuringly, grabbing her hand as they were waved out of the room by their escorts.

"Alright, so the chariot is going to take you out, you're going to wave at the crowds and look stunning in general. I trust that won't be too hard for you?" It was Caroline's stylist speaking but he was looking at Stefan, who straightened out his spine in response. What, did his reputation precede him or something?

They were lead outdoors to a quadrant area where their chariots awaited them, tributes that Stefan recognized from other reapings milling around in costumes as well, some of them with their stylists and others with their mentors.

"There you are!" Alaric grinned as he approached them, but Stefan barely paid him any mind. His gaze was fixated across the cobblestone to where two blondes leaned against the brick wall carelessly, talking to each other in low voices. They were suited up like roman gladiators, warriors from ancient times and Stefan certainly thought it suited.

The male tribute, (_Niklaus_, his brain supplied) was lithe, but muscular and even more alluring in person than on video. Stefan hadn't managed to avert his gaze before the other tribute's head tilted up and captured his stare. Icy blues held his gaze and Stefan wondered what-

"Stefan!" Caroline slapped him in the arm. "Jesus Christ, I know he's attractive but seriously?"

"What?" He blurted, biting his bottom lip.

"I've called your name like five times already!"

"Oh. Sorry." He muttered, flicking his gaze back across the quadrant only to find that the blonde was looking away now, the sibling's attention captured by their own mentor.

"Do you know who that is?" Alaric asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "Their mentor I mean," he explained further. When Stefan and Caroline both shook their heads he continued, "that's Enobaria."

Stefan's eyes widened. "Oh."

"What? Why does that sound familiar?" Caroline asked as Stefan's eyes darted back and forth between Alaric and the woman he'd just identified.

"She's a victor," Stefan explained.

"Yeah, the 62nd Hunger Games," Alaric continued sarcastically before Stefan cut in again.

"I didn't get to watch her games on the train, but I remember hearing about it – they talked about her for _years_ after her victory."

Caroline frowned, "why? What did she do that was so special?"

Alaric looked at him with raised eyebrows, an expression that clearly said 'will you tell her, or will I?'.

"She uh…supposedly ripped out a tribute's throat…with her teeth." Stefan muttered, looking warily back across at the Mikaelson siblings as if they too would attempt the feat. They definitely looked capable of it.

"That she did." Alaric muttered, before waving them up into a waiting carriage. "Now, have fun kids and make sure you look good!" He drawled, before walking over to join their stylists and escort where he assumed they'd take a seat in the audience.

Stefan turned back again to find District 2's carriage, before being swatted in the arm again by Caroline.

"Could you please stop staring at them?" She glared at him, clearly frazzled. "What if they come over here and tear our throats out?"

He couldn't help but snort at that, but did as she asked anyway and looked around to take in the rest of the tributes. The two darker skinned tributes from District 11 were in front of them and the girl caught his eye, offering a small smile which he returned.

He remembered her reaping and wondered why no one had volunteered for her. She seemed so…pure. Surely someone would take pity? But they hadn't and she was left to die like the rest of them, there was nothing that could be done for her. Life wasn't cruel – but Panem was.

The carriages began to move out and Caroline gripped his hand tight as the roar of the crowd reached their ears. Carriages moved forward ahead of them, making their way down through the arches and out into the area set up for the parade. One by one they disappeared until it was their turn – the last carriage – and Stefan and Caroline greeted them with smiles, entangled hands held high, all the while Stefan wishing he could kill every last one of them.

They didn't deserve this.

* * *

It wasn't until later that night that Stefan broke. Once the parade was over and done with, once the smarmy President Mikaelson had given his speech and they'd been taken back to their accommodations for a banquet large enough to feed half of District 12 (large enough to make him sick) Stefan stewed. The clock – a fancy digital one the likes of which he'd never seen – ticked over to eleven, then twelve, then one and Stefan burned up inside.

Finally he rose from the fancy bed he'd been given and made his way out into the hall, to the elevator, pressing the roof button as he went. He wasn't going to throw himself off it, but he needed somewhere to go. Somewhere he could scream as loud as he wanted and there'd be no one there to hear him, no one to _judge_ him.

The door flew open and he stepped out into the cool night air, pausing for only a minute before turning around and punching the wall behind him. There was the audible sound of his knuckles cracking and he could feel warm blood spilling over his skin.

He was about to curse out loud when he felt more than heard a presence behind him, a breath close enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end and he spun around, heart hammering in his chest as his green orbs met blue.

"Hello ripper."

* * *

**A/N: **So...that took a while, sorry haha. I bet the Kennett fans have deserted me by the time I get to _Curve Balls_ ahah :| Anywho...

So many new readers! *waves* HI! :D

And god damn it Di! Why must you be anon? I always want to reply to your reviews haha and you too Katerina! 0.0 *ugly sobbing*

And calm down the lot of you, we all know I'm only capable of mildly dubious endings and nowhere near the scale of sad.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** So, I may have discovered One Direction. I sincerely apologise for my absence.

**Disclaimer:** I don't even own a GIF of Klefan to be honest.

* * *

_**Survive  
**_

* * *

_"And then he gives me a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me."_

_- The Hunger Games_

* * *

Stefan stared into deep blue eyes, breathing heavily, far too aware of his proximity to the blonde in front of him. He was broken out of his trance by blood running down his knuckles, across his fingertips and onto the cement below him.

Hissing, he stepped back from the district two tribute and brought his other hand up to brush over his wounded flesh. He didn't know what to say, so he didn't speak at all.

"You know, I didn't peg you as the quiet type."

Stefan had heard his voice before on the replay of district two's reaping but the slight inflection of an accent was something he hadn't noticed before and he wondered to himself if everyone from the district spoke that way – surely he would have heard it in someone else by now if they did.

"What do you want?" He managed to croak out lowly, taking another step back as the blonde stepped forward.

He looked at Stefan, considering for a moment before replying, "merely to introduce myself." As if Stefan would ever believe that. "The name's Klaus."

This time when he took another step forward, Stefan refused to budge and held his ground – an action that clearly amused the blonde career if the twinkle in his eye was anything to go by.

"I saw your reaping. I know who you are." The brunette held his chin up. Even if he wasn't going to ally with this 'Klaus' and his little group of careers, it wouldn't do to show fear. They may have been trained for this but with his bow and a good vantage point they couldn't stop an arrow through their neck.

"And I saw yours." The blonde replied simply, drawing Stefan's attention to his pink lips.

"What do you _want_?" Stefan ground out again, stepping forward himself this time into the other man's space.

Klaus merely smirked at him. "I told you already ripper, I want _you_." The blonde shifted his stance to back Stefan into the wall. The brunette's eyes darted back up to meet blue.

"Stefan?" Caroline's trembling voice croaked from the doorway and he jumped, shoving Klaus away from him forcefully and moving forward to meet her.

"Caroline, what are you doing up?" He asked quietly, putting himself between her and the career behind him.

"I couldn't sleep." She answered quietly and he reached up to brush her hair out of her face. He bit his lip, not quite knowing what to say. There was nothing that could make this better, or even any more bearable. He couldn't tell her it would all be ok, because it wouldn't.

"Hello sweetheart."

She looked to Klaus in interest as Stefan rolled his eyes. "Hi. I'm Caroline." She didn't back away as he stepped closer, Stefan could tell however that she was at least a little intimidated.

"Are you related to the president?" She blurted out suddenly and Stefan groaned mentally. Really Caroline?

The blonde's face darkened and his lips turned down into a scowl. "Yes love, unfortunately I am."

"But then why-" Stefan cut her off with a squeeze to her arm, hyper-aware of the other tribute's rapidly darkening mood.

"Perhaps you should go back to bed." He urged her with his eyes to just trust him on this one and for once, not ask questions.

Klaus' head tilted in surprise and he looked at Stefan with what seemed to be consideration.

"Alright, fine." Caroline huffed tiredly, squeezing his hand before disappearing through the door and back into the building.

He turned back to the other boy, taking in his jeans and sweater for the first time. He looked almost…nice – harmless – if you didn't catch the deadly gleam of his eyes that all careers seemed to come fitted with.

"Well she was lovely ripper-"

"Why are you calling me that?!" Stefan cut him off suddenly. What did that even mean?

The blonde looked surprised for a minute, before raising an eyebrow. "Everyone's calling you that. Your reaping caused quite a stir, _Stefan_."

Stefan huffed quietly, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. He walked to the edge of the roof, swinging himself up to perch on the overhang, legs dangling thirteen stories above the ground. What if the stir he'd caused had gotten Damon in trouble with their local peacekeepers? What if they were keeping an eye on him now and he couldn't hunt? He'd starve if he couldn't hunt. They didn't have income outside of the game they brought back.

Would he have to work in the mines? What if they were harsher on him because of what Stefan had done? He'd seen residents of his district whipped over looking at a peacekeeper the wrong way, had he condemned Damon to that now too?

He didn't even realise he was cold until the warm presence settled next to him. Did they not have any concept of personal space in District Two?

"Stop worrying about your brother."

Stefan's head shot up. How the hell…?

Klaus uncharacteristically rolled his eyes. "You bite your lip when you're concerned about something. It's your tell."

The fact that he'd figured Stefan out so thoroughly, studied him so well in such a short amount of time had alarm bells ringing in his head. It made him wary. Careers were skilled, something to be concerned about sure, but Klaus was on a whole other level. He was a predator.

"Oh come on, ripper." The blonde seemingly recognised where his thoughts were going. "You're not that hard to read!"

"I can't imagine how you must feel." Stefan can't help letting the words slip and flinches a little. The 'with your sister' goes unsaid.

Klaus shrugs noncommittally and as Stefan expected, remains silent.

"You should join us." He finally speaks. "Our alliance."

Stefan shakes his head immediately. "No."

Klaus sneers. "You're not going to get a better offer." And Stefan knows it's true. It's still better all the same if they didn't have any allies. That way they weren't waiting to get stabbed in the back.

"We don't need allies."

"Well you're certainly not helpless," the blonde eyes up Stefan's arms considering, "but you're not going to survive forever on your own."

Stefan scoffs, looking over at him. "Forever? You do realise that only one of us is getting out of this alive right?"

"And it's not going to be sweet Caroline." Klaus deflects and Stefan seriously considers shoving him off the edge of the roof, just for the fun of it. It's not like he would make it to the ground anyway, the invisible barriers would just send him flying back up. Couldn't have the tributes committing suicide before the arena now could they?

"Even if you can protect her all the way to the end, what are you going to do when it comes down to just the two of you?" Klaus kept pushing, following him as he stepped back onto the rooftop, walking back to the door.

"Are you going to let her kill you Stefan? Protect her the entire time and then hand her the win?" Klaus taunts him. "Maybe you'll kill yourself. Just to save her the guilt of running you through. Is that what you're planning Stefan?"

Stefan snarls, whirling around. "No!"

Klaus is smirking. "No what? What are you going to do, ripper?"

"I'm going home." He hisses quietly. He's going home to his brother, to his friends. He's going to win, no matter what the cost because he has too much to lose.

Klaus' smirk pulls up a little more until he can see gleaming, white teeth. "Good answer." And all of a sudden Klaus' mouth is near his ear whispering, "think about my offer Stefan."

And then he's gone, stairwell door slamming shut behind him.

Stefan groans, running a hand over his face. He turns to follow knowing he's probably only got another five hours, max, before he has to be up and in the training centre. Life is full of joys.

* * *

"Look, we already talked about this Caroline!" He growls frustrated. "And this is not a debate we should be having here."

Her blonde hair whips around her shoulders as she leaps to her feet, discarding the rope she'd held in her hands. "When then Stefan? When will someone finally listen to me and my opinions?" She snarls. "It's my life on the line here too, not just yours!"

"I _know_ that Caroline," he hisses, drawing her close with a too-tight grip around her wrist. "But this isn't the place, or time." His eyes dart around warily, taking in the few tributes around them who were graced with inquisitive expressions. Luckily they were the only ones present at the knot tying station, but there was always someone close by. They didn't need to be seen as divided.

"They _offered_ us an alliance Stefan!" She hisses, "we should take it!"

"What happens when they stab us in the back Care? What then?"

Her eyes are glowing with fury. "We're going to die _anyway_ Stefan!" She spits, "we may as well spend our last days with them!"

He felt pity for her, but there was a difference between them. Caroline knew that she was going to die and she accepted that fact, but Stefan…Stefan had a chance and he knew it and he'd be damned if he didn't take it.

"You like him…" She trailed off quietly and Stefan inwardly groaned. She was trying to manipulate him into getting her way, he was sure of it and it was all because of that damn blonde tribute from district two.

"I don't know him." He stated coldly, "and I never will."

And with that he turned and stalked out of the room, leaving Caroline on her own to train. It wasn't as if the tributes could touch her here anyway – if she wanted to make friends then fine, let her – it was her own death she was walking into anyway.

He'd barely made it three steps out of the training centre before he was pulled sharply to the side by his arm and tugged into a dark room, door slamming shut behind him.

Turning, he snarled, shoving at the body next to him and waiting for his eyes to adjust to the low light.

"Easy ripper." A hand remained on his chest, resting over his furiously pounding heart.

"What do you want now?" Stefan hissed out angrily, blood pressure rising. At this point he'd be glad to get into the games and kill something just to relive some stress. Immediately he felt bad for thinking it, but that still didn't help his attitude in the slightest.

"Are we going to do this again?" Klaus sighed and Stefan's eyes finally adjusted to meet azure.

"Why are you so intent on me joining you?" He questioned and rightfully so. He wasn't anything particularly special – not a career, not overly strong or good at fighting. No one had seen his skills with a bow or knives yet, so what was it? Why was Niklaus Mikaelson so interested in him?

"You make it so hard Stefan." He answered coldly, dropping his hand. "Why can't you just accept that I want you and leave it at that?"

"Because it doesn't make any sense!" He protested, taking a step forward. "Which is exactly why I can't trust you."

Klaus raised an eyebrow, moving right into Stefan's personal space. "Just. Say. Yes."

"No." Stefan snorted, shrugging and leaning back against the wall. Klaus' arms came up to rest on either side of his head, blocking him in and Stefan's heart began to pound with adrenaline. "Why are you wasting so much time chasing me?" Even as he asked the question his mind was racing, fight or flight flickering in the forefront of his thoughts.

He jumped startled when he looked up to meet Klaus' eyes. He screwed his own shut for a second, before blinking and opening them to look again. He could have sworn…

"It's simple Stefan. I want you and you want me."

"No," the brunette growled, "I don't."

Klaus leaned down then, his voice a low whisper in Stefan's ear. "You're lying ripper."

"I'm not!" The protest sounded weak, even to his own ears but he needed to at least attempt to defend himself.

"Your heart is beating a hundred miles a minute Stefan. You're lying." He felt the blonde's soft lips on his throat then, over his pulse and it was all Stefan could do to keep breathing.

"Klaus…" He groaned out quietly, answered by a soft hum he could feel in his veins.

"Don't worry ripper. We have a few more days. I'm sure I can change your mind." And with that, he was gone. As if he were never there in the first place, the only evidence was the rapid beating of Stefan's heart against his ribcage like a frightened bird.

He was in far too deep already.

He takes the elevator back up, because while he'd like to clear his head, eleven flights of stairs is a little excessive and when he reaches their floor Alaric is waiting with an angry Caroline by his side.

"Where have you been?!" She shrieks and he covers his ears a little, eyes widening at the decibel.

"Caroline!" He yells, glaring at her. What was she going to air their dirty laundry to the rest of the tributes anyway? The capitol had some fancy things but he wasn't sure the soundproof rooms were one of them.

Alaric sighed, running a hand over his face. Stefan really pitied him to be honest, they were probably the worst pair of tributes he'd ever had.

"Look. I'm not attempting to take sides in this, but the answer is no Caroline. It's just not a good idea!" Alaric looked exasperated and Stefan threw his hands in the air.

"See!" He jabbed a finger in Ric's direction.

"Look, my job is to make sure that you both survive as long as possible," he turned to an upset Caroline, taking her hand. "You have to let me do that."

Stefan couldn't help but sigh as she crumpled into their mentor's arms. This was taking a bigger toll on her than he expected. He couldn't help but wonder once again how Damon was doing.

"I'm going out for some fresh air," he announced, even though he'd only just returned to the apartment. He slipped out the door breathing a heavy sigh. He just couldn't deal with Caroline, with all her emotions – he was having a hard enough time keeping his own head on straight at the moment, let alone dealing with hers.

He shouldn't have been surprised when he got up to the roof only to find it already occupied. Shouldn't have been…but was – at least it wasn't Klaus this time, though he supposed it wasn't that much better.

"I heard you denied my brother." She called out without so much as turning around. How did she even know it was him? "Come, sit with me Stefan." She didn't give him a chance to escape back into the stairwell.

He was resigned at this point to never getting another moment alone and he rolled his eyes, moving to the edge of the roof to join her, swinging his legs over the ledge in a manner reminiscent of his position with her brother the night before.

"It's Rebekah, right?" He asked needlessly, receiving a quiet nod in return.

"And you're the infamous Stefan Salvatore." She finally replied, the corner of her mouth turning up in a smirk.

"Infamous?" He questioned sardonically. "Hardly."

She shook her head. "Well Klaus hasn't stopped talking about you."

He grimaced at the image that produced in his mind. He couldn't picture Klaus ever talking about someone, certainly not to the extent or in the manner that she was implying.

"You're lying." He threw out, though he knew at once his words had no effect on her.

"No," she considered him for a moment. "I'm not. He wants you Stefan Salvatore."

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise at that statement. Her words felt loaded; like she wasn't just talking about an alliance in the Hunger Games and his brow furrowed, thinking back to his encounter with Klaus not even an hour previous.

It made sense, he supposed with the way the blonde was acting, that Klaus did want him in more than one way. You then had to put it in context though – they were tributes in the Hunger Games – they were eventually going to die, or at least one of them would. Probably him, because Klaus was definitely far more dangerous than Stefan, that much he could admit to himself.

"Stop thinking so loud!" Rebekah complained next to him, reaching out to hit him solidly in the arm. He found it a little charming he supposed, that she was brave enough to do such a thing considering the position they were in. He remembered who she was then but, and realised he wasn't much to be afraid of.

She was Niklaus' sister – she wasn't going to be scared of him and he ignored the little voice in his head telling him she should be.

"What do you want?" He asked quietly, raising his head to look at her.

"I want you to give in," she smiled at him radiantly and he couldn't help but compare her to her sibling. He could see the resemblance of course but she just wasn't…as captivating as her brother was. It was at that point Stefan realised he was sailing into treacherous waters.

"I can't." He answered strongly. "I don't trust him."

"You will." She said quietly, "eventually." The small smile never left her face.

"I don't understand." He responded bluntly, beyond confused with the turn this conversation had taken. There wasn't an 'eventually' for them, that was the whole point.

"Not everything is as it seems Stefan." With that, she pulled herself effortlessly back over the ledge and onto solid ground, beginning to stride away from him.

"Wait!" He called out loudly, halting her in her tracks. "Explain this to me!" He called angrily. "I don't _understand_!"

"I know you don't." She turned, "and you won't. Not until it's time." She looked him in the eye seriously. "You need to _trust_ us. Trust him."

He growled low in his throat, hands curling into fists at his sides. "You're asking for too much." You're asking me to have faith in you when I don't even know you, when you're only going to kill me in the end, he thinks furiously.

"I can't make this any clearer for you Stefan." Her tone was so honest he almost wanted to take a step back. "You hold the cards here, even if it doesn't seem like it." Her smile had finally disappeared. "The question here is do you want him?"

"What?" He frowned, stepping closer.

"Do you want him?" She ground out simply and his stomach turned over. Did he want him? Did he want Niklaus? Especially in the manner she was implying – her expression leaving no room for confusion.

"I-…" He stuttered, mouth dry. He'd only met Klaus what, twice now? And already he could feel some sort of magnetic pull, calling out to him, dragging him toward the career even as he was fighting it tooth and nail. A deadly attraction in every sense.

"There's no need to be afraid," she said softly, smiling.

He immediately protested, "I'm not-!"

"You wear your heart on your sleeve, Stefan." Rebekah cut him off, chuckling softly and pulling her hair away from her face.

"He won't give up." She stated, noting the snarl that had graced his lips. "He never gives up, not until he gets what he wants."

"Well it won't matter if I'm dead." He mumbles angrily, running a hand through his hair. He's tired, just tired of everything.

She chuckled again, shaking her head. "Oh Stefan. You really think he's going to let you die?"

He frowned at her cryptic statement. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"I'll see you tomorrow, Stefan." She waved with one hand and opened the door in order to take the stairs, "good luck in your private session. I bet you score high." She winked over her shoulder and with that she was gone.

He was left open mouthed on the roof once again wondering what the _hell_ is going on.

* * *

**A/N:** So yes, I am back. I have missed you my dear Klefan-ites. Basically I came back from a month abroad and went straight into hospital for surgery -nothing major! All is well now! But in my downtime I also discovered new fandoms, such as One Direction. And Teen Wolf. Which have had me so enamoured I don't know which way is up and have got me writing RPF of all things, erck!  
**Anyway, enough from me, how have you all been? Missed me? Ready for season four? **


	4. Chapter 4

_**Survive  
**_

* * *

_"I keep wishing I could think of a way to…to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games."_

_- The Hunger Games_

* * *

He's not nervous, or at least that's what he tells himself as he sits outside the entrance to the training centre, waiting for his private session. Caroline has just gone inside and he's last – last out of every competitor and Stefan isn't sure whether that's a good thing or a very, very bad thing.

All night he'd debated with himself whether to show off all of his skills or whether to just slide under the radar. If he scored low, he wouldn't get any sponsors, but he would have the element of surprise against the other tributes in the games – they wouldn't be expecting any competition from him if he scored a four or something. However, he wasn't naïve enough to believe he could win without sponsors, there was just no way. The gamemakers would be sure to throw everything possible at him in the arena and while he could hunt for himself and wouldn't need food provisions, there was no doubt in his mind he would eventually need medical supplies.

He still hadn't decided what he was going to do by the time Caroline exited the room, pale faced and eyes shining. He could tell before she even spoke that it hadn't gone well.

"I'm sorry." He said softly, reaching out to pull her into his arms.

"It's ok." She replied quietly. "I'm really sorry for how I've been treating you, Stefan." She continued even as he hushed her, "You know how neurotic I can be and I'm just taking all my fears out on you, which isn't fair."

"No, Care…It's alright." He sighed, rubbing her back. He _did_ know how she felt after all. Perhaps not as acutely – his chances at survival were much higher – but still, he _knew_ what she was feeling, her worries and doubts.

"We'll talk later, ok?" Stefan smiled softly, before moving around the blonde and towards the training room. He heard her whisper a good luck and his expression hardened as he strode forward to face the gamemakers.

His eyes darted back and forth across the high stage that they had taken up residence on days ago. They were all laughing merrily with each other, talking over champagne. He cleared his throat as he reached the front of the room, waiting expectantly. Only a few of the men glanced over briefly before turning back to their conversations disinterestedly.

Stefan felt his mouth drop open. Seriously? He knew that the citizens of the capitol, those involved in the games especially, thought they were better than everybody else but this was ridiculous. They were here to grade him, that was their reason for being here today!

He was only from District 12 of course, not a career tribute like Klaus and Rebekah, but seriously? Frowning, he turned and picked up a bow and quiver from the station beside him, hoisting it up and firing five arrows in quick succession. Three went straight to the heart and two to the head – clumped together, dead centre – perfect.

His satisfaction lasted only a moment however as he turned and found none of the gamemakers paying attention – not one. They had all circled around a roast that was being brought out – the centrepiece a large pig the likes of which Stefan could only dream of being presented with. It had an apple in its mouth and was surrounded by a variety of salads.

The pompous capitol citizens poured themselves some more wine – completely oblivious to the feat of archery that had occurred behind them.

"You've got to be kidding me." Stefan muttered out loud, unimpressed.

He let the beautifully crafted compound bow fall to his feet with a clatter, staring in disbelief at the scene before him. He could feel fire licking at his gut as he watched. These people, they were forcing him, forcing _children_ to fight to their deaths and they couldn't even be bothered to award him a few minutes of their time?

Glaring harshly, he strode over to the next station, picking up one of the deadly throwing knives, gripping it tightly in his hand. He turned to the dummy, preparing to send it flying into the heart area when a burst of laughter from the stage took him off guard.

He turned to find the head gamesmaker pointing at the hog they had been presented with and moving to take the apple out of its mouth. He lifted the shining fruit up and turned to say something to the man next to him conspiringly and that's when Stefan lost it.

Before he knew it the throwing knife was out of his hand and flying towards the stage, hitting the apple dead centre and impaling it to the wall a few feet behind. One of the women let out an ear piercing shriek and then it fell silent as all eyes turned to Stefan.

No one dared to move and it seemed, Stefan thought vindictively, that they had all of a sudden lost the ability to speak. The head gamesmaker, Shane or someone, still had his hand poised in the air, seemingly stunned at how close he had just come to losing his fingers, the knife having passed a hair's breadth away.

Stefan smirked at them before giving a mocking bow. "Thank you, for your consideration." And with that, he stormed to the doors, slamming them behind him and not slowing his furious pace until he reached the elevator.

"Unbelievable." He muttered to himself, shaking his head.

He's accosted by both Caroline and Alaric at once as he enters the apartment they've been given, the two of them vying for his attention with various questions all along the lines of 'how did it go?' and 'what happened?'.

He simply shakes his head, still far too furious to talk before striding into his room and slamming the door. He supposed his indecision from earlier was of no matter now – his mind had been made up for him. No way were they going to give him a high score now, he'd be lucky to receive a score at all to be honest.

He'd never heard of anyone receiving zero previously but there was a first time for everything and with his luck lately…

Stefan didn't leave his room when Caroline came knocking, he didn't come out for dinner either – he only migrated to the lounge area when Alaric called out that the tributes individual scores were now being announced and that he needed to 'get his ass out there'.

He missed the capitol's tributes – Kol and Katerina if he remembered correctly? – by the time he made it to the lounge though he could guess what kind of scores they had received. He was just in time to see Niklaus' face flash up onto the screen and the presenter announce his score of a ten.

That was…well, it didn't surprise Stefan that the score was high, not at all. But ten? Only a handful of people had ever received a score that high. The marks were between one and twelve, one being the lowest and twelve being the highest. From what he remembered, ten is the highest score a tribute has received to date.

He wondered what exactly Niklaus had showed them to garner himself such a score. Obviously they were paying attention earlier in the day, Stefan thought bitterly, biting his lower lip. He tuned back into the program to hear Rebekah's score of eight – also higher than Stefan had expected.

He hummed softly to himself, frowning in consternation. Next came Finn who also received an 8 and Sage with a 7. Tyler received a 7 also, but the girl who'd been reaped from his district; Amber, she only received a 3. He wasn't surprised, she seemed the pampered type and he doubted survival skills were ever a necessary skill for her to learn, much less anything violent.

The scores were mostly average after that for a little while as Alaric quickly pointed out. "They're mostly what I expected."

Caroline was quick to respond with, "what about Niklaus Mikaelson?" Because really, it would just be ridiculous to have expected a ten – from anybody.

"He's definitely something." Ric muttered quietly and Stefan couldn't help but think there was something odd about it. Whether it was the tone or the body language he wasn't sure, but something was definitely off.

When they got to District 8 the boy, Matt, was a pleasant surprise with a 7 also which had Stefan humming in consideration. He'd seemed fit enough he supposed, but nothing particularly special – or dangerous for that matter.

The girl from 11, Bonnie, received a 6 and Stefan wondered whether the Gamesmakers were even paying attention to her. He didn't expect much from her, but still, she would have gone just before them and he knew they weren't paying attention by the time they got to District 12.

He grit his teeth as Caroline's face flashed up on the screen and the room collectively held their breath. A large black 5 appeared next to her picture and he let out a shuddering breath, trying to give her a small smile.

"That's ok!" Ric said immediately. "That's alright, I can work with that."

It was then that Stefan saw his own face staring back at him and he winced, barely able to make himself look at the screen.

"What is that face for?" Alaric badgered him immediately, "what did you do?!"

The presenter's voice floated out incredulously then, "well I don't think I've ever seen this before!" And he hung his head. They'd given him a 0. He'd be the first competitor in the history of the games that they'd label bad enough to not even receive a number.

"How the hell…" Ric muttered and Stefan let his eyes flicker upward for a fraction of a second only to take in the two black figures dancing on the screen. 11.

"Shit." He croaked, meeting Caroline's eyes with a wide-eyed stare.

"What the hell did you do?!" Alaric snapped, turning to grab his shoulders furiously.

"I might have…thrown a knife at the Gamesmakers." He screwed up his eyes as Caroline punched him in the leg.

"Why the hell would you do that Stefan?!" Her lips were set in a pout and she was clearly furious with him.

"They weren't even watching me!" He stood up from the lounge, pacing back and forth, "They were just paying attention to their damn feast, not the least concerned about what I could do."

"So you thought you'd try and kill them?" Alaric cut in incredulously, standing as well and punctuating his words with his hands.

"One of them had an apple in his hand so…I hit the apple."

"Let me get this straight," their mentor ranted, "you thought it would be a good idea, to throw a knife at an apple that was sitting _in one of the Gamesmakers' hands_?!"

Stefan shrugged a little defensively. "What's the big deal?!" He glared, "I got an 11 out of it – that's good right?"

Saltzman growled in frustration, throwing his hands in the air. "No, you idiot! All you've done is paint a massive target on your back!" He took Stefan by the shoulders and shook him angrily, "you've labelled yourself as the biggest threat in the games!"

Stefan sighed, covering his face with his hands and drawing in a ragged breath. "Well there's not much I can do about it now," he mumbled from between his fingers. He tugged harshly on his hair before staring at Caroline in silence for a moment. When no one dared to speak he shook his head and turned on his heel, leaving the apartment as fast as possible without making it look like he was running away.

He was stepping out of the stairwell and onto the roof before he even registered that maybe coming up here wasn't a good idea – a thought that was confirmed when he spotted the blonde man sitting on the ledge of the roof, feet swaying in the breeze.

"I thought you might come up here."

Stefan shook his head with a dry laugh, eyes darting back toward the door and wondering whether the fresh air out here was worth the trouble. He could feel everything piling up in his chest, like the weight of the world was resting, not on his shoulders, but on top of his heart. Sitting there, crushing him slowly as all his feelings piled on top of one another.

He could feel a lump rise in his throat and his eyes begin to burn and he clenched his hand into a fist. It was all just too much for him – everything he had, little as it was, had been ripped from him brutally and he knew, he knew he would never get it back. He wasn't going to fool himself, even if he made it out alive, he would never be the same person – the games changed you, it was a fact.

And besides, he wasn't going to win. As positive as he tried to be, as much as he tried to fool himself...he couldn't beat Klaus. There was no way he was ever going to be a good enough match for the blonde. He'd seen him in training, Klaus would annihilate anything in his path.

He was brought back to reality sharply by the sensation of fingertips trailing along his cheek and he realized with a start that he was staring into deep azure. He'd bitten through his lip and blood was filling his mouth. He was aware for only a second of the hand fisted tightly in his shirt before it was pulling him in and Klaus covered his lips with his own.

Stefan crumpled.

He was vulnerable and upset and he just…gave in. Just like that. Klaus was like…a darkness that lingered in the back of your mind, never obvious but always there. When they parted Stefan rested his forehead on the blonde's shoulder, closing his eyes tightly.

Did he really want to get involved in whatever this was? Knowing that he was going to be put in a kill or be killed situation? Did he even still have a choice? Because really, did he have the strength to stop this feeling inside, crashing down on him like a tidal wave?

"I don't understand." He said softly, flinching even as the words slipped from his mouth.

"I know." Klaus replied, simply tracing Stefan's neck softly with his fingertips.

Drawing in a shaky breath, Stefan stepped back, meeting blue eyes once more but with less trepidation. "So…a ten, huh?" He muttered quietly, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Klaus had no problem showing his, a flash of white teeth showing as he replied sarcastically, "so…an eleven, huh?"

Stefan sighed, looking away to the buildings towering around them that formed the capitol. "It was an accident."

Klaus scoffed. "An accident? What did you show them?" He shook his head. The tone was casual but Stefan could hear the real underlying curiosity there.

"I threw a knife at the Gamesmakers."

Klaus blinked. "You what?"

"They weren't paying attention to me," Stefan frowned, aware he sounded petulant but not really caring all that much. He was shocked when a genuine laugh came from Klaus – the blonde's eyes sparkling as a true grin spread across his face.

"You really are a ripper aren't you?"

Stefan told himself he was imagining the affection in the other man's voice because it simply couldn't be there.

"What is it that bothers you the most about these games, Stefan?" Klaus changed the subject abruptly and the brunette frowned in consternation. He resisted the urge to ask for clarification, thinking a moment, before replying slowly.

"What _really_ bothers me…" he started, "is that it doesn't bother _them_." He gestured out to the capitol with a wave of his hand. "It's like, we're all just characters or animals or something, I don't know. What bothers me the most is that they can all watch this – watch us dying, _people's skulls getting bashed in_ – like it's all a joke. They laugh, like its entertainment." He sighed. "I hate it. I hate them."

He wasn't exaggerating either. While he was sure there was a nice person or two, or at least someone not so heartless left in the capitol, given the chance, he'd have no qualms about dropping a bomb on the place – District 13 style.

Klaus didn't comment on his answer, nor did he make to share an opinion of his own – he simply nodded thoughtfully and returned to staring at the skyline.

"I want to live." Stefan muttered quietly, feeling the blackness beginning to drag him down again.

Klaus turns to look at him, staring for a moment, opening his mouth and then closing it again as if deciding not to speak his mind. After another moment of silence however he hesitantly says, "you only need to survive the first few days." His resolve seems to harden after that and he looks more serious. "Be ready."

Stefan is left staring at his back – mind racing as he tries to decipher the message. What does he mean? Does he mean that sponsors will provide for him if he survives the initial bloodbath? Why is he giving Stefan false hope that maybe he has a chance in this – is he really that cruel?

His head is spinning and he just plain doesn't understand. He remains on the roof, alone, until he begins to shiver in the cool night air and is forced to retreat inside. He'd better get some sleep anyway, tomorrow they had interviews where they would have to attempt to appeal to sponsors. Basically they needed to look pretty and make out they had a decent chance of winning this – even if in reality they were screwed.

* * *

Stefan watched with a small smile on his face as Caroline charmed the audience. She may not be able to throw a weapon, that much was true, or have little expertise in any area of survival – but this…this she could do. The girl knew how to work a crowd.

She had a smile full of perfect white teeth and the stylists had curled her blonde hair into gorgeous ringlets. They had designed her a beautiful floor length gown black and jewel encrusted, quite similar to the outfits they had been provided with for the chariot. She made sure to be at least a little self-depreciative and laughed at everything the interviewer was saying – the capitol citizens were lapping it up.

When Caroline gave her last dazzling twirl to a loud round of applause Stefan abruptly realised he would now have to go and do the same thing and he had no idea what to say. His suit was jewel encrusted much like Caroline's dress and in all honestly was probably a size too small, though he was told that was 'on trend'.

Caroline pulled him into a one armed hug as she stepped off the stage and kissed him briefly on the cheek. "Your turn."

He thought if it weren't for the circumstances she could probably get used to this – the spotlight was definitely her element. He took a deep breath in but for some reason couldn't seem to make himself move. It was as if his feet were glued to the ground and it was only after a hard shove to his back from Alaric that he stumbled towards the stage.

People were clapping, though most of them were just peering down at him curiously, no doubt wondering how he'd managed to score that eleven and what skills he could possibly possess – being a nobody from District 12 that is. He was well aware of exactly how these people looked down on his home and even if he had to smile and win their admiration and affection – he would not forget what they were really like.

He would make a vow to destroy them all or something ridiculous like that but really, he wasn't getting out of this alive so he wouldn't have any chance to make his darkest wishes a reality.

"Stefan Salvatore! My oh my. Or should I call you the ripper?" It was said in a joking tone but to Stefan it only fell flat. He didn't like the nickname when it fell from this man's lips – he didn't like the crowd murmuring it either. The niggling voice in the back of his head protested that the name was reserved for one person and from anyone else it was wrong.

It seemed he had forgotten to smile at the ill joke (imagine that!) and so the man had moved onto another question, seemingly to disperse the sudden tension that had fallen over the stage. Alaric was gesturing furiously in the corner of his vision, no doubt bemoaning the fact that Stefan was stuffing all this up.

"We were all very moved, I think…when you volunteered for him at the reaping."

It took Stefan's addled brain a moment to catch up and he stared. He was sure, the moment he realised what the discussion had turned to, a dark glare had overtaken his face. That coupled with the fact that he had yet to speak since stepping onto the stage had the man shifting in his seat nervously.

He should take pity on him – fake a smile, pretend he was just like everybody else in the games – like he wanted sponsors, like he wanted the Capitol citizens to fall in love with him, but he just couldn't. If he had any chance at all he wasn't relying on these sorry excuses for humans, he didn't need them. He would make it through without them or not at all.

And how dare they bring up Damon? How dare they bring up the brother that he would likely never see again? The one person he cared about that they had nearly condemned to death.

"Did he come and say goodbye to you?"

Stefan's lip curled.

"Of course he came to say goodbye to me." He snarled, unintentionally living up to his hated nickname.

"And what did you say to him…in the end?" The man seemed relieved just to have gotten an answer out of him and continued to press where it hurt.

"I told him I couldn't live without him." He said angrily, as if it wasn't the most obvious thing in the world. Who did these people think they were? To rip their lives apart so thoroughly and then pour salt in open wounds?

"And did you say that for his comfort?"

That was it. He stood abruptly, upper lip curled into a snarl once more and threw his microphone at the man, unflinching at the loud thump as it struck him in the chest.

"Fuck you." He spat, striding off the stage and into the hall, shoving Caroline away from him as he forced his way to the lift. The doors had nearly closed when they were pushed back open forcibly and Alaric pushed through them, taking only a second to slam Stefan harshly against the back wall.

"What the hell were you thinking?" He hissed and Stefan had never seen him this angry before. "Huh? What the hell was that?" He sneered.

"Do you think I give a shit about what the Capitol think of me?" Stefan yelled at him. "Do you think I care about President Mikaelson and his little games?"

"You've made your feelings on them abundantly clear," His mentor spat back, "but I thought you gave a shit about staying alive – that's for sure!"

"Well there you go!" Stefan shoved him off. "I guess that's just proof that you don't know me. You have no idea."

Alaric shook his head angrily. "You have no idea what you're getting into. You can't win this."

Stefan remained still for a moment before letting another dark glare take over his features. "You have no idea what I'm capable of."

* * *

**A/N:** I can't thank you guys enough for sticking around, I'm back for hopefully more frequent updates from now on. What I can promise you is that this won't follow the story of Hunger Games from chapter to chapter, in fact after one more we're about to thoroughlly diverge. I don't think anyone's figured it out yet though, which is brilliant :)

Happy New Year!


End file.
